


god is good, or so they say

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Love/Hate, Other, blue and orange morality, by which i mean infanticide, tagged as other bc angel genders are a mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Her divine wrath stirs his loins in ways it really, really shouldn't. Not that he feels particularly guilty about it.





	god is good, or so they say

The first time he meets her it’s in front of a door lacking in lamb’s blood, but set inside walls curiously covered in Enochian warding and she is nothing short of _radiant_ in her divine fury.

“Wouldn’t try that if I were you, darling,” he drawls casually, steps out from behind the corner where he’s been watching her.

Instantly, her head snaps around to face him, and he gets a better look at her vessel in the torch-light. Soft skin, long dark hair, and a look like murder on her face, eyes still aglow. She says nothing, doesn’t take her gaze off the new threat.

“New type of ward,” he continues arrogantly. “Try to take the whole house down to kill the firstborn inside, your power bounces back and burns that borrowed body of yours to dust. Quite a waste, really, with the lovely young thing you’re wearing.”

He swears the angel in front of him  _snarls_  in anger, and satisfaction he didn’t know he was capable of experiencing boils in the pit of his stomach, lights up his body in new and delightful ways. Let it never be said that dealing with angels was always a bore.

“What does the fate of infants matter to you, demon?” she finally answers, voice dripping with chilly disgust. It occurs to him that the disgust isn’t nearly as personal as he’d like it to be.

“Me? I’m a salesman, been out here all day. These mud brats aren’t as dim as you think they are, you know. They know something’s coming, something out of their control, and some of them protect themselves and their families the only way they know how. And that’s where I come in.”

“You took their souls and damned them to eternity?!” And now she’s confused, thrown, he catches the flickering shadows of multiple pairs of wings before they fade out as she pulls her power back, concentrates it in preparation for a fight if it comes to that.

“In exchange for protection. Protection from you lot, I might add.” He puts a hand up, indicates he has no desire to have this fight (the fact her paygrade looks to be well above his not being a small factor in that decision), and pulls his being together to teleport away if it becomes the best option.

“If they’re good souls, they’ll go to heaven,” she answers, at length and measured. “Our God is a just God.”

“Right, I’m sure they appreciate their lives being cut short.” And for his own amusement, he decides to toy with her-– she seems like the type who’s never really thought about why she serves the master she does. The type to crack under psychological pressure. “And what do you even do with the newborns, anyway? Count the times they’ve cried, put them on a scale against the better babies to see how they fare? Or is it still the circumcision thing, I’ve forgotten.” Not that he cares, exactly (he’d probably drown a few just for kicks), but it’s certainly bothering  _her_ , judging by the wheels that look to be turning in her head.

She hesitates. “Not my department.”

“Of  _course_ , you kill them, another winged bastard’s the one who deals with them after they die. Bloody bureaucracy. And yet you’re convinced you’re better than us, why is that again?”

“We protect humans and guard their souls. You corrupt and destroy.” Her logic is simple. Childlike, even.

“Are you sure? Because that’s not what I’m seeing here.” The instant the words are out of his mouth, he realizes he’s pushed too far, and he makes to flee, get the last line–

But as the blood-marked houses fade away he realizes that she’s retreated, too. A strange decision, all things considered. Nonetheless, an interesting one, and not what he’d expected from someone who’d seemed so eager to smite him and everything else in the vicinity.

After that, he digs up what information on her he can get, tries and fails to blame it on idle curiosity.


End file.
